“Yeah, trees and thunder. Bad plan.”
“Very bad,” he agreed. “Shit, the ticket vouchers are going to get wet.”
Harper dug into her bag. She held up a baggie with two Fig Newtons in it. She handed him one and stuck the other in her mouth. “Problem solved.” She took the scavenger hunt ticket out of his hand and slid it into the miniature Ziploc.
She whirled around and pointed at a vibrant patch of purple flowers in a sea of white. “There.”
“Perfect.”
“Good, because the heavens are just about to open up, I think.”
The canopy of trees above them shielded them a little, but the pelting rain seared through regardless. Hell, even the rain was warm. He followed her to the cluster of flowers and crouched in front of the purple one. Tucking it in enough that it wouldn’t blow away, he then slid his phone out of his pocket and gave a clue.
“Can you tell what hole on the course we’re near?”
She slid her hand out of his and ran into the clearing. She spun around as rain showered down on her tanned skin. Her blue tank immediately turned dark, and water beaded up on her skin. She pushed the bangs out of her eyes and grinned so hugely that he actually froze.
She was so goddamn beautiful. So full of life and fun when she put work aside. She cupped her hand over her eyes as the rain pelted them harder. “Fourteen,” she yelled back at him.
Within the space of a moment, the rain turned to sheets and the wind kicked up. He couldn’t see more than three feet in front of him. “Harper!” His voice was swallowed by the wind.
He ran toward where she’d been just moments ago and found only the open clearing. He yelled her name again, but the wind swallowed his voice and spat out more rain.
Visibility was non-existent, and the first licks of panic burned the back of his neck. The crack of lightning and thunder on top of one another spurned him into moving. Into the trees didn’t seem like a smart idea, but the clearing pretty much made him a damn good target for lightning.
Lesser of two evils wasn’t even an option at that point. The wind died for a moment and he heard a voice. He turned and saw a small shed through the streaking rain. Harper was waving frantically from the door.
Relief followed by a shiver spurned him forward. Puddles formed on the pathway and sloshed over his shoes. Flash flooding would be imminent and they had a shed to look forward to.
Scavenger hunt, his goddamn ass. He skidded on the muddy grass. The wind howled again, dumping stinging rain down his back. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered and grabbed for the door.
“Get in here!” Harper hauled him inside, but he had to duck down or he’d crack his damn skull on the roof.
“How the hell did you see this?”
“I saw it when I got to the clearing on the golf course.”
He dug his phone out of his pants and flicked on the torch setting. Three rakes and a leaf blower were stuffed in one corner, and the bags of mulch and soil lining the wall gave the room its earthy scent. “Thank you, landscapers on the golf course.”
“No kidding.”
The shed was little more than four walls and a roof, set on cinderblocks, but it was a good place to wait out the worst of the storm. With the visibility as poor as it was, they’d end up wandering around the woods and never finding their car.
He slicked his hair back and shined the light on Harper. “You good?”
“Drenched to the skin, but fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed her arms. “Gotta love Texas.”
Pulling her in, he wrapped his arms around her. “It’ll be over soon.”
“No offense, but the wet shirt isn’t killing my chill.”
“Sorry.” He leaned back enough to tug his shirt over his head and wrung it out before hanging it off one of the rake handles. “You should probably take your shirt off, too.”
“I should, huh?”
“You know, skin on skin contact will help you warm up faster.”
“Is that right?”
“I did get my merit badge in surviving hypothermia.”
She snorted. “I’m not entirely sure you’re kidding.” But she tugged at the hem of her shirt and flipped it off. The material was swollen with rain and dripped all over the floor even before she wrung it out. She turned to hang it on another handle and Deacon swallowed a groan.
Her back was long and elegant. The dim gray light from the doll-sized windows highlighted the dip of her spine and the curve of shadow that disappeared into her little shorts. When she faced him again, he reached for her without thought.
He grazed the back of his knuckle over the rounded breasts that spilled from her bra. He met her gaze, crowding into her space as he molded his palms around the sides of each breast. He dragged his thumb over the centers, gratified to feel each nipple bead up for his touch.
He peeled down the cup and exposed the pale pink of her nipple. He watched her as he curled his tongue around one tight tip. God, her skin was so delicate next to the bright yellow. She tasted of rain and the chill from the wind. Thunder cracked, and the ground shook. He didn’t care if the little shed came down around their ears. He was going to finally cut through this gut-gnawing tension between them.
Her palms slid over his belly, her fingers digging into his waistband before flicking the button of his pants open. She broke their gaze first, her attention on getting inside his boxers.
He stepped back. He was so fucking hot from the car and from the days of frustration that all it would take was her slim, strong hand around his cock to set him off.
And he didn’t want to spill his cum outside again. Even her sweet mouth wouldn’t be enough now. He wanted to feel her clasp around him. Even a damn condom seemed like too much of a barrier, but it would have to do.
He gently scraped his fingernails down her sides to her shorts and unbuttoned them so he could drag her panties and denim over her ass. The air was heavy with the storm and their sweat. The wind should have brought coolness, but he could already tell there would be no break in the humidity with this storm.
Sweat and rain glistened on her tanned flesh. He crouched before her and licked it off her belly before he followed the natural vee of her flesh to her tight little slit.
She pushed his hair out of his eyes as his tongue speared into her. So goddamn wet. From his touch, from the moment they were living in now, from the car, and from the denial they’d both been suffering through the last few days.
Nine days.
Nine days, and he was mad for her.
Nine days, and he was pretty sure madness wasn’t the only thing taking a hold of him. He pushed that terrifying thought aside and concentrated on the first bloom of her taste on his tongue.
He opened his mouth over her, carving out her flesh to taste every last drop of her slickness and yet she always yielded more. He lifted her thigh to his shoulder and the sting of her calf pressing against his healing back only heightened his need to drag everything out of her.
Her nails bit into his shoulder as he slid two fingers in and curved up into her clasping flesh. “Yes,” he moaned against her thigh. The rich scent of rain and Harper blended into something he wasn’t sure he could live without. “Come for me, Harper. Come around my mouth before I fuck you.”
He held onto her waist for balance and sawed his fingers into her as he ate every bit of her searing pleasure. She screamed over the storm, her broken cries hammering his need into brittle shards.
When he couldn’t bear it a moment longer, he stood and hooked her legs around his waist. He slammed her against the wall. Too hard—he forgot his strength. “I’m sorry,” he gasped and eased off of her.
Her heels dug into his ass. “Oh no, you don’t. Harder. I want you to drill me into this goddamn wall.”
He swore and dug into his pocket. Taking care of the condom, he slid the head of his cock along her pussy. He looked down between them. He’d been waiting to get inside her sweet body for what felt like forever, but n
ow he wasn’t sure he wanted to let go of the feeling.
What if he got inside her and couldn’t live without her?
Because he knew it was going to feel beyond amazing. The idea of disappointment wasn’t the problem. He knew this was going to be perfection as surely as he knew the way a song went together.
Cupping the back of her head, he met her gaze and slowly slid inside of her.
The room fuzzed at the edges, and the storm died away. He was in a cocoon of Harper—her scent, her clasping body, and the knowledge that she now held a piece of him.
Her head tipped back and her nails scored over his shoulders and down his biceps. “Deacon,” she cried out. “Please.”
This first moment inside her trumped every other point in time. Hot, tight, soft, and made for him—she was everything. When she slammed the side of her fist into his arm, he finally moved. The clasp of her body strangled his cock in pleasure and pain.
He searched for anything to calm the thrashing need. His fingers dug into her hips as he powered into her again and again. The fringes of his brain reminded him that they were a unit and this was about her as much as it was about him.
But all he could focus on was how she felt around him. Like heaven and hell were pulling at him. Take more, give more, love more. Life infused around him and through him as her sweet body gave and softened for him. He dragged his teeth over the column of her throat and found her ear.
Her name was a whispered plea, and her legs tightened around him. He pressed his forehead into her shoulder and hung on. The tremors inside him seemed to echo within her. She fisted his hair, and he had to let go.
There could only be one first, but it wouldn’t be the last. And as his spine flamed with sweat and exertion, he came harder than he could ever remember.
The world rushed in on him. Too loud, too invasive, and too based in reality. Her breath was coming too fast and her cry of release seared his eardrums.
So fucking worth it.
He slumped to his knees taking her with him into the bags of rock salt that lined this side of the shed. Braced on the wall, he felt it groan under their combined weight. “Shit,” he muttered and tried to balance back on his feet again, but she held him tight.
“Not yet.” Her shaky whisper branded the moment in his memory. “I can’t let you go yet.”
He smiled into her neck. “You broke me.”
“You? I’m the one that’s going to have these slats permanently etched into my back.” She smiled up at him. “Does that mean I get my merit badge in fucking?”
He couldn’t stop the bark of laughter. “Only if I get to do the pinning ceremony.”
“You mean be there?”
“No, I mean do the pinning.”
Her infectious laugh filled the tiny little room, and he couldn’t help but draw her to her feet and hug her tight.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
August 20, 1:30 PM - Seriously? Cuffs?
Harper looped her arms around Deacon. The warmth of his chest and belly combated the chill of the storm. Every time the wind settled back down, humidity blanketed them.
They both watched the storm from the doorway. Belts of rain slithered across the grass rippling with the freakish wind. The sky had the green tinge that she’d seen so many times in her years on the road. Tornado weather.
Kansas, Idaho, Texas, it didn’t really matter the state. The briny air was always a warning. This time, she’d been so oblivious. Hormones and lust had been buzzing in her brain like locust. She’d even ignored the advisory that came up on her phone.
And now they were stuck in the middle of a forest of trees in the center of a city. Lightning speared the skyline accentuating the whorls of clouds.
Would there be touch downs? Or just rain that could drown as quickly as it disappeared? She understood that wildness. And letting the wind take her where it wanted.
One of the main reasons she loved the road so much was the wildness under the mask of a schedule. It fed both parts of her. And now this man that had torn through her like a summer storm was beside her, steady as a rock.
She’d seen it in his eyes.
Forever.
As if he could actually inject it into her veins like a drug or worse, with the passion between them.
She didn’t do forever. And she’d deluded herself into thinking that a fling was possible. It should be. Someone like Deacon should be a fuck and run.
Should be and actually were two different words when it came to this man, in more ways than just sex. Each day she spent with him, she saw it more.
Permanence and passion, sureness in what he was meant to do—it came so easy for him. The industry would test him, it was testing him already. She could see it in the worry lines that dug grooves between his brows.
But he was built to deal with them. He had the patience of a monk when it came to getting what he wanted. And she knew he’d wait her out, thinking he could get around her. Thinking he knew what was best for them.
She closed her eyes for a moment as he drew his fingertips up her naked spine and made a return trip down to cup her ass. Warmth followed his path. Right now she could push him out into the storm and take him on the grass.
Glory and orgasms were there for the taking. And he’d give himself freely. His forest green eyes with their gold depths would delve into her soul and give as much as he took.
Any woman would be lucky to have that.
Any woman except her. Already the love she saw there made her shoulders itch and her gut twist. How could she walk away from him knowing how perfect he was?
But she couldn’t stay. Not with his career and hers on completely different trajectories.
She looked up at him, dying a little inside when his mouth came down on hers so sweetly. And as she felt herself fall into the oblivion that she’d only found with one man, she heard the timer in the back of her mind.
Chasing the clink of seconds and minutes, days and weeks, she rose onto her toes. She was disgustingly greedy. It wasn’t fair to him, but she couldn’t stop herself. God, she’d never wanted anything more.
Forcing herself to step back, she smiled up at him. “Hear that?”
He dragged her against him and the raging erection that pressed against her belly. “I can’t hear anything. My dick is throbbing too hard.”
“So I feel.” She dragged the back of her fingers down the vein that stood so hard and proud under his cock. She’d tasted that, dragged her tongue over it and felt him shudder under her touch.
Amazingly, she was already wet again. Heck, she’d been wet for days now. Her body had been on board way before her brain, which was unusual in itself.
She liked sex. Had never denied herself a good partner when one had come along, but Deacon put every other man she’d been with to shame. They’d been mere boys, without his patience and definitely without his skill. In fact, she didn’t want to think too hard on why he had such skills.
Because she didn’t want to know who’d come before her, and she would die a little inside when she saw reports of who would come after.
She circled the base of his cock and squeezed. Substantial both in girth and length, he was as ready for another round as she was. Too bad the rain was letting up.
And they needed to get back for his soundcheck and more importantly, her job. Megan may have been indulgent because of the lust factor, but they’d be shorthanded for the dinner rush. In the end, Meg and Danny were business people. And those responsibilities were just as important to her.
Reluctantly, she let him go. “The storm is finally letting up.”
He sighed and reached for his pants to unearth his phone. She could see the green text message bubbles, and the fat clock that was forever keeping time.
Taking time.
And she sighed, gathering her own clothes to shimmy into. Sweat and humidity hadn’t helped dry out her clothes. She hopped twice to get the denim to unroll and slide over her ass.
“Too many cupcakes,”
she muttered.
His hand landed on her ass. “Definitely not. That ass is super fine.”
She laughed and wiggled away from his hold.
Her bra was a hopeless twist of foam and elastic so she shoved it into her bag and unearthed the button-down pink plaid shirt she had. It would hide the fact that she was walking around without a bra.
He stepped into his shorts and underwear, but didn’t bother with his shirt, instead he tucked it into his back pocket like a tail. “Make a run for it?” he asked.
Harper nodded. “Maybe we can make it to the car before the next wave hits.”
“So you don’t think it’s over?”
“No. That sky is way too ominous. They’re going to start putting up barricades.”
“Ready?” He laced his fingers with hers, and they ducked out into the steady rain. Tree branches and leaves were strewn everywhere. Flowers were bent, and dirty rivulets of water scored the pathways.
She jogged to keep up with him. “Where the hell did we end up? I got turned around in the storm.”
He made a visor with his hand over his eyes then pointed. “I think that’s our parking lot.”
The grass was slick under her feet. She tried to keep up with him, but as usual, his freakish stride left her in the dust. Possibly, the idea that she was a foot shorter than him would eventually stick in that brain of his, but alas...no.
A puddle of mud swallowed her sneaker and she pitched forward. Years of learning how to fall—thank you, roadie life—helped her to roll so her hip took the brunt of her fall, not her wrist or ankle.
In turn, she acted like a bowling ball and took out Deacon’s legs like pins. She curled onto her side and couldn’t stop the giggles. Knocking Deacon down was like taking out a tree. The look on his face as he scrambled pushed her giggles into shrieks of laughter.
He landed on that pretty face of his, leaving a streak of mud down his shoulder and chest. The armor-like tattoo that spread across his back made the whole thing look like a video game wipe-out which only made it funnier.
She flipped onto her back, trying to gulp in air.
He crawled her way. She crab walked back at the heat in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Rocked Page 16
